


The Volunteer

by mothandpidgeon



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode: e06 Retribution, Extended Scene, Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-18 22:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17589215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothandpidgeon/pseuds/mothandpidgeon
Summary: After victory at the fort in Samana Bay, Horatio must accept his fate when he volunteers to set the charges, a mission from which he won’t likely return.





	The Volunteer

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic to spend some time in Horatio’s mind when he volunteers to set the charges and blow up the fort.

Horatio raced to the dock with Bush and Kennedy. His heart was thumping, the thrill of outrunning the enemy fueling each step. They were just out of reach, though. Now that they were out of harm's way, he couldn't help but grin. A full surrender. The day was theirs. 

Buckland stepped off of the gig, his features strained. Around them, the men were hurrying their new prisoners to safety. 

“We’ve withdrawn from the fort, sir,” Horatio reported. He tried to catch his breath, his lungs burning and hot. 

“Marines will cover our retreat,” Bush added.

“Very well,” Buckland said. His shoulders were twitching with discomfort. 

“Time we made it to the ship, sir,” Bush suggested. 

“I don’t think so, Mr Bush,” Buckland said. 

“Sir?”

“We still have to blow up the fort,” Buckland told him. Horatio felt the officer’s eyes slip over him. “I need a man to lay the charges.”

A tense moment went between them and Horatio’s stomach felt cold. A cramp from running, perhaps, or maybe it had fallen away with fear. It was the same feeling Horatio got when he was standing at a great height. He knew what Buckland was suggesting. No, suggesting was not the right word for it. 

“I would be honored to volunteer, sir,” he said and took a steadying breath. All of the excitement from victory melted away. His vision became like a tunnel, he could only see in front of him and what was there was his duty.

Buckland nodded. He looked regretful and yet he had just condemned Horatio to death. 

“And I, sir,” Archie offered. Horatio could not bring himself to look at his friend. 

“But I’m senior officer,” Bush tried. 

Was Horatio deserving of friends like these?

“I don’t think it will take all three of you,” Buckland answered. “Mr. Hornblower, I accept your offer.”

Horatio clenched his jaw. So it was done. He would be brave but he’d forgotten how. 

“With respects, sir,” Archie said, “what’s to be gained?”

“Those are our orders, Mr. Kennedy,” Buckland snapped back. “I’m sure Mr. Hornblower will concur.”

Horatio knew he had to answer but was having trouble forming sound. “Yes, sir,” he finally managed.

“Very well,” Buckland said. The whole thing was distasteful to the acting captain.

Horatio felt his head swimming as though it were trapped under water. There had to be another way and yet he had finally run out of schemes. Surely even suggesting one would sound as though he could not carry out his simple task, too frightened. No, this was his time.

He had faced death so many times but he had never felt it’s true weight that was pushing on him in that moment. Just yesterday, he felt the captain’s pistol jabbed into his belly. Had it only been hours ago? He’d heard the snap of the flint against the frizzen and had not even blinked. Why was this turning him to stone? 

He had once sailed into turbulent waters in nothing more than a little cutter to save his own enemies from drowning. Even when he was warned that it was treacherous, he had insisted on taking the risk without a second thought. What had overcome him then that was missing now?

He had even begged for death before. On _Justinian_ , he had wished for it every day. He’d challenged a man to a duel he was sure he could not win, did not wish to win. So why was he shrinking away from it now? 

He had always expected dying to be a relief, something to finally still his mind. But for some reason now it felt sharp and bitter like salt water in a wound. He was a coward.

“Good luck, Mr. Hornblower.” Bush stirred him from his musings.

He turned back to the lieutenant and gave a tight nod. Bush returned the gesture but his eyes were clouded. Horatio hadn’t expected to see the expression that pained Bush’s face, one that told him there were words the man wanted to say to him but couldn’t, would never be able to articulate even if he had the time. But there was no time. 

He finally turned to Archie.

It was Archie’s hand that did him in. How could he accept that this would be the last touch of the man he’d lived beside for seven years? A handshake. So formal, so dry. He would give anything to pull him into his arms for one final embrace. 

“Horatio,” Archie choked.

“Archie.” He could barely get the name out of his mouth.

He wished he hadn’t looked Archie in the face, hadn’t seen his lips quiver, just for a second. It was undoing him. He pulled away as quickly as he could. He had to be brave for Archie’s sake. He wouldn’t burden him with goodbyes.

At least he wouldn’t have to watch Bush or Kennedy face their deaths. That would be far worse. Would they miss him? Think of him fondly over a drink? Or without him would his two friends bicker and fall away? 

“Sir.” He now extended his hand to Buckland. He would never spite his commanding officer for an order. He had sent men to their deaths before and he knew just how difficult it was. But he couldn’t pretend to enjoy shaking the man’s hand. Horatio had imagined his own death in many ways but he'd never pictured it coming on the whims of a man like Buckland. 

“Mr. Hornblower,” Buckland replied. Horatio hated the pity in his voice.

Horatio looked him in the eye so that Buckland knew he was a man that was not afraid to do his duty. 

He was afraid, though. 

He let out a long sigh so that he could speak without hearing his words shake. “I’ll see you aboard the _Renown_ , gentlemen,” he said with false confidence. It was a lie but for whose benefit was he saying it? 

Horatio got one last glimpse at Archie as he tried to smile but swallowed it down. He’d seen Archie at his lowest but knowing this was on his account was the more painful than watching his best friend waste away.

Horatio felt Bush’s gentle hand brush his shoulders, trying to give him a reassuring touch. It was a sad consolation. He couldn’t stand the thought of it, to have his shoulder squeezed reassuringly when there was no solace to be found, and yet he wished he could be comforted. 

So he ran from them, back into the fort to ready the charges. He had work to do. He felt his eyes stinging with tears. 

He would not let them remember him as a coward.


End file.
